


Evermore

by auspicious_alice



Category: FFXIV, Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aftercare, Aftermath of Torture, Character Death, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Fade to Black, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Interrogation, Loss of Limbs, Medical Experimentation, Medical Trauma, Mental Instability, Post-War, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auspicious_alice/pseuds/auspicious_alice
Summary: After pureblood Viola tol Aquila is restored her status as Tribunus Laticlavius after an incident regarding a mentally unstable Pilus Prior, as well as the death of her father, the Golden Raven of Doma has finally brought home that which had once caused her father to detest her. With a mission to make Garlemald a better and more free Empire as it once where — prosperous despite what warring conflicts that may be — her journey begins at her request to former fellow Tribunus Laticlavius Nero tol Scaeva to create for her "the hands of one fit to lead a legion and more".
Relationships: Nero tol Scaeva/Original Character(s), Nero tol Scaeva/Viola tol Aquila
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, Alice here! Don't forget to check out my tumblr for some neat visual references you may or may not recognize down the line... And also just me crying over how much I love them. I will be trying to update this as much as I can, with a one chapter a month bare minimum! Don't hesitate to leave a comment and show your honest support, please! I love hearing what others think about my writing.

" _You're going to hurt yourself doing that, Viola._ "

Oh, beloved brother. How he worried so. But of course he worried, who wouldn't? There he stood, watching the ravenette woman practically appearing in tears she refused to shed at the lack of proper control of the Magitek forged into hands. But he knew that expression all too well — it was not her hands that had been the source of the issue, but the dreams of which had spoken to her in the slumber she had so reluctantly succumbed to only hours earlier in the night. The soft, frightened whispers of nothings that had left plush yet chapped lips spoke all too clearly akin to a scream in the heart of the nightmares in the form of memories overlapping, her self-consciousness piling it all together to remind her it was _her fault._

It was her fault he was dead. It was her fault Takara had no father. It was her fault Volke was scarred with the image of her bloodied wrists in his mind still too young for the scene. It was her fault Caius had defected and threatened to take Takara with him. It was her fault the Cohort was disbanded.

All of these things had flooded her mind at once. The fear of her own son being stripped from under her wing. The guilt that had plagued her for the horrid visions in the mind of a young man, and for the obliviously assisted inflicted mental instability of her former Pilus Prior. The restoring of her citizenship alone was enough, yet her dear godfather, and Legatus no less, had deemed it necessary to restore her rank as Tribunus Laticlavius... And to have the _audacity_ that her first order upon return would be to _care for herself_ and _recuperate_ of all things. Then again... It had been several moons by this point that the woman had yet to properly operate prosthetic hands at the consistency suitably necessary for combat. _Or even for music._

Ah, the memories of song. The way she had once been able to so _freely_ flow with her little performances in her chambers, her audience consisting of a brother and a dog, and the grand prize consisting of a brief applause and a lovingly made warm cup of sweetened chamomile tea. But none of it was _truly_ possible anymore, now that she had hardly been able to control her hands for but a few hours at a time before she would begin to overthink once more, and her hands would begin to convulse.

_Just as they did now._

"Viola, dear, _calm down._ Do you need me to get Takara?" The man inquired with a worried expression, brows furrowed as he'd let his own shoulder length gingery blonde hair escape the confines of behind his ears in order to fix hers. "Takara..." She'd repeat, giving an uneasy little nod. As the elder brother had removed himself from the silken clad bed with a nod, turning to retrieve the young boy from his chambers, Viola had turned her head to the nearby desk despite the largeness and lavishness of the room, and to the papers upon it. Oh, how she had been lucky. Had it not been for her own status as a noble, as a pureblood with citizenship by birth, her own son would have likely been taken away as an aan had the wrong person gotten their hands on him. But the moment those papers where signed and filed... It would be no secret that the Golden Raven of Doma had bore a child to a high ranking Doman Resistance member... A bastard son in truth, yet had he still lived on from the encounter...

_No._ She could not change the past, and it was clear she had to tell such things to herself all too much despite the passing winters. Even if he would have been overjoyed, cared for the son despite the complexities of war, he was not here, and this was not Doma. She was a widowed mother in name, and they where in Garlemald. They where home. As they where now, it was her priority to see the boy officially registered as a citizen and educated properly — still keeping in mind he had spent the first seven winters of his life in a rice cultivating village and not a technologically revolutionized empire — and to restore the control over her hands. Unfortunately, the latter hadn't been progressing so well.

"< _Mama...?_ >"

Ah, that precious, sleepy and shy little voice, angelic as ever. Despite the man not understanding a lick of Doman, the woman had understood her son's words perfectly — and conversed as such. "< _My boy..._ Come here, come here. Do you think Mama could hold you for the night?>" Viola inquired, earning herself a rather _eager_ little nod, the boy being assisted by his uncle in climbing onto the bed and into the woman's arms, vibrant icy blue eyes half-lidded and sleepy, fair skinned and babied features framed by long and soft locks of a black one shade darker than his mother's. Almost immediately, the convulsions had ceased. Takara had grabbed his mother's faux hands with his own, rather quickly succumbing to a peaceful sleep yet again in a matter of moments.

"Heh... Kinda reminds me of _you,_ Vi."

"Yeah, yeah... _Hush up or you'll wake him again._ "

Despite the hushed exchange, the man had offered a gentle little smile down to the woman, who had in turn situated herself in bed. "Ignatius, did... Is it true? _About the XIVth._ " The woman inquired, earning herself a soft little huff. "Indeed. Livia is dead, Nero and Gaius have both left direct military services... From what our Frumentarii of the IInd have gathered, Nero is off doing Emperor knows what with Cid in Eorzea, Gaius has become too difficult of a steady catch to say, and the Legion in its entirety was brought to a gruesome low with all its major losses. No one's replenished their ranks to my knowledge." Ignatius responded, canting his head a bit as he'd gingerly stroke the little Raven's hair. "Why do you ask?"

"I am going to need only the finest of hands. I am certain none can match Nero's craftsmanship with this task."

"But _how_ do you plan to convince him?"

" _That he knows he would score against Cid in a little perfected area._ "


	2. Umbral

Every step she had taken, she could _feel_ their gazes, just as cold as the air around them.

With citizenship granted to Takara, her past deeds where known, and there was no doubt those who had heard may have lacked trust in her, should they be Optimate. Nonetheless, she had done her best to keep her posture high; there was trust placed in her dear elder brother who she had no doubt would help amend the loss of trust. To lack faith that she was a _decent person_ was one thing, but to lack faith in her worth as a _soldier_ and her _loyalty to the people of her country_ was another.

As she'd boarded the airship, she paid no mind to these things; they would be fixed, in all due time. But to fix her status, she must first fix her hands. There was no denying she had not particularly enjoyed the length of the trip, and that was to consider the closest and safest place to land was in Coerthas West... She would be met with warmth, and the more cold, and then a more _mild_ warmth once more. That wasn't to account for the specific paths necessary to avoid being shot down on the spot as is...

————

" _Leo, make landing._ I will travel my own way to Mor Dhona, you and yours take the ship home. It'll be a while before I've finished business here."

" _Yes ma'am!_ "

Each step into the snow was a reluctant one, though she knew the area was likely the safest to possibly land. As she'd pulled out a Magitek key from her pocket, it'd turned to such a familiar and favorited bike with the press of a button and a toss in the air only seconds apart. Mounting the motorcycle, the woman had soon began to make her way further and further into the snow, with each passing moment the night drawing near... She would have to hurry, lest the nearby beasts attempt to make a dinner of her. Nonetheless, it'd only take but a few bells at her swiftest, though care must still needs be given to the environment and its inhabitants.

Raising a hand to her linkpearl in ear as she'd activate it, there would be but the familiar chiming of an accepted call — one she was grateful for when it was that none other than Cid nan Garlond himself had answered. " _Hello?_ Who might I be speaking to?" Ah, a voice she hadn't heard in many winters now. "Viola tol Aquila. I'm sure you remember me. Tell me, is _Nero_ with you?" The woman inquired, earning her but a pause of confusion before it was that he had finally answered. "Uh... Yes, why?" Oh, Cid. Ever the cautious one... "I am but in need of a favor from him. Worry not, it has rather _little_ to do with Imperial affairs, this I promise you."

Though the sound of relief in his voice was present in the form of a sigh, she'd been unable to hold back the faint twitching upward of the left corner of her lips in amusement. Briefly, both hands had returned to guiding the wheels of her bike. "You — _where are you?_ When do you think you'll be here? This is Nero we're speaking of, I'm not sure how long I can keep him contained in _one room._ " Ah, right.

Giving a few moments of silence to think, the ravenette woman had eventually spoken her answer with a hand to her ear. "I'll be there in a bell or two. Oh, and... _Don't tell Nero I'm on my way._ " She'd chime, earning herself a rather begrudged sigh. "Very well. We're currently in Mor Dhona, though knowing _you_ , you're already on your way, huh?"

" _You know me too well, Cid._ "

With the snap of the signal, the woman had ended the call, only briefly glancing back to the bag upon her back. A little bullpup had appeared to peek out, only to hide itself once more upon realizing the strengths of the wind, and soon reemerging with a more confident posture, allowing the wind to beat against face and tongue, to which Viola had but given a soft laugh.

" _And here's to hoping it's easier to convince him than I suspect._ "

As the ravenette woman had driven her way through snow, there was no doubt she was rather grateful for the clear skies once more. The colors of pinks and oranges painted across the skies in different hues, raising from one end of the sky and fading into the other. The snow itself reflected brilliantly, though slowly had she felt the warmth of the land strengthen not simply from the sun itself, but of knowing that she had near entered borders of Mor Dhona already, knowing their landing was a well one. As snow had slowly faded out, she had continued to ride, though her hair had been tied into a low bun, for once wearing her coat properly as opposed to simply draping it over her shoulders to appease her own sense of aesthetic appeal. It was peaceful, and for that she had loved it. The birds chiming their songs, the snow slowly melting into little pools... Even the _Agrius_ and the entangled Midgardsormr was coming into view — or at least, the remnants of.

Despite all of it, she had soon found herself grimacing at the thought of yet again having to sound intelligent. She didn't particularly like her noble's mask, or any of them really — not the literal mask upon her features so designed akin to a raven itself, but of the metaphorical faces she had been taught and learned to wear and act by in younger years. The last time she had even set eyes upon Nero was winters ago, when neither of them where yet Tribuni Laticlavi, but both still nearing the rank. He was so very odd, yet while she had disagreed with the thought of resentment, perhaps she had seen it fit to deem such a bond of rivalry rather than simply plain jealousy. Nero... He had a mind. _And he knew how to use it._

The moment all snow had truly faded, a sigh of relief had dared leave Viola's lips. Despite the air not particularly being as fresh and clean as Coerthas, it was still much preferred for its warmth and vibrant colors aside whites and grays. As the ravenette woman had began to see the structures more clearly in place, and the settlement of Revenant's Toll in approach, there was no denying the twisting and turning if her gut, beckoning her to turn back — but she could not. What kind of choice but a cowardly and irresponsible one would that be? Eventually coming to a slow, she had found herself dismounting her bike, retrieving it in the form of a key, and allowing the little dog to hop out of her bag before swinging it lazily over a shoulder despite her proper posture. As she'd begin to walk herself within the settlement, her coat had once more been undone and draped over either shoulder beneath her bag in order to prevent herself from overheating.

Nonetheless, Viola had glanced around a bit, only to head herself into the nearby tavern, quietly slipping into the entrance of the Seventh Heaven. As she'd sit herself near the nearest window — and most secluded, at that — she'd set her bag down at the side of her chair, the little bullpup resting in suit aside it. Leaning back, the little Raven had simply run silent, arms crossed over her chest. Already, she knew, someone was likely informing Cid of her arrival, and Nero was somewhere to be found. As she'd sit, and stare out the little window, several different scenes of denial had run through her head, before mentally scolding herself. Already this far, and she had still chosen to deny herself the proper confidence she had displayed? At least... She believed she did. Right...?

" _Well, well. If it isn't the Little Raven. You don't quite seem to be holding that charm I'd met you with._ "


	3. Chamomile

" _Well, well. If it isn't the Little Raven. You don't quite seem to be holding that charm I'd met you with._ "

Immediately grimacing, the woman had allowed a barely audible sigh to escape her lips as she'd glanced up to the familiar blonde man rather slowly. "Nero... So good to see you," she spoke, though not an ounce of enthusiasm had been present in her tone. This had only caused a more driven curiosity to befall the opposing pureblood across the table. "Oh come now, don't speak as if you haven't come all this way just for me." He'd scoff a little, crossing either arm over his chest; truly this would make for either an extremely annoying, or an extremely amusing meeting, or so the ravenette woman had thought.

"And how would _you_ know why I've come here?" Inquiring, a brow raised somewhat visibly beneath Viola's mask. If a game was what he would make of this, he would get. A hand had extended to quietly rest upon the table in all its gloved glory, appearing rather inconspicuous as it where. "If you're not here for me, the what would you be doing, all the way out here? You're not one to take walks halfway across the planet, and you've never spoken much to Garlond." He answered as if she had been all too readable — this she did not like. Not one bit. Nonetheless, perhaps now might be a valiable time to lead in to her own little tactics. "Perhaps I _am_ here to see Garlond. If I didn't know any better, I'd dare think you to be _jealous._ "

Oh, now she'd done it. Giving a little scoff, Nero had not wasted any time ruffling his own feathers. "Hardly a reason to be _jealous_ if you're not seeing him for anything _important._ If anything, your distractions offer less time for _him,_ and more for _me,_ " the blonde answered, clicking his tongue lightly in a lack of amusement. Ah, yes, this was perfect. At least, Viola hoped so. "Mh, your time, yes... About that. Ironworks hands might look exceptionally well on me, wouldn't they? Unless you've a _better_ suggestion." Eyes shifting back up to the other through her mask, she'd been unable to hold back the light amusement tugging at her lips to his lack of understanding — yet still a somewhat sorrowful grin.

In order to answer his unspoken query, the ravenette woman had began to carefully remove either her gloves, before soon resting prosthetic hands upon the table before him, lightly tapping a finger on the occasion. "Your — when did this happen? By the..." Ah, yes, the unexpectancy. The one who had done all the things possible through her hands, now left with lofty faux. "A good four or five moons ago. My father was killed, and my brother now runs the family house."

"I see... But these don't even look in fair condition — spill it woman, why did you come all the way here in a condition like that?" Nero inquired, resulting in the same little grin resting upon the woman's features. "What, are you _worried?_ I didn't take you as one to _care,_ I'll admit," Viola answered, all to smugly. Only a light scoff had left Nero's lips, rolling eyes briefly at the mere thought. Him? Care? He wasn't worried. " _As if._ It's just pitiful is all. Your reputation exceeds you, yet you still choose to take so little care of yourself — "

"If it bothers you so much, why don't you make me a pair _yourself?_ Unless, of course, you believe yourself _less capable_ than Garlond."

Eyes had narrowed dangerously to the woman's words, and the ever present smug little grin. A moment of silence ensued before he had yet again spoken up, albeit quieter. "Do not forget you are not the _only_ one who ranked among the Frumentarium." Ah, caught already. At least he had not become any less than what she had remembered. "...That's a dangerous string to pull, and you know it. You're lucky I'm not entirely heartless, Little Raven," he finished, delivering a disapproving shake of the head.

By this point, Viola's grin had faded down to a neutral expression, albeit holding a somber lining to it. "My intent is not to _pull strings,_ Nero. These are the best hands I've got, but they're not _good enough._ All the few styles and variants of prosthetics the engineers in Garlemald have tried, and these are the best I can get without you or Garlond around — and you said it yourself... They're not in good condition for combat. They're not prone to twitching as most have been, but they're not smooth enough in movement for fighting properly as I once could. Not even close."

Letting out a small sigh, the blonde eventually sat himself across the table quietly. Without a word, he'd reach either hand to take hers, occasionally shifting them around to more closely and carefully observe the craftsmanship and current condition. "Twitching... I assume you've had your nerves properly connected?" He'd inquire rather quietly, clearly concentrated on his observations. "I would assume as much, yes. My only request is as seamless a motion as possible, with the only smoothest textures..."

Despite not raising his head, his eyes had travelled to meet hers, despite chocolatey hues resting on their hands. Clearly, there where other desires she did not directly admit, though he had perhaps already known just what these where. "...I might be able to come up with something. Exceeding both Garlemald and Garlond's work, mind you. But answer me this; _why should I help you?_ "

Silence had filled the air once more, the woman avoiding Nero's gaze. Why should he help her? Truly, was she so selfish as to ask of such things, without considering... As she'd speak, however, her own voice had held a rather beaten and saddened tone. "Because..." Lips had pursued, eventually giving in to such tactics. She hadn't the energy to fight back, and she was certain he had already known that. "Because... I have no one else I feel I can trust with this. Rendering me unable to feel with my hands was painful enough... All I want is to once again have hands fit to rule a Le — "

"You want hands so you can feel less vulnerable."

To his interruption, the ravenette woman had run silent, brows furrowing uncomfortably. Again, Nero would speak. "You are _Viola tol Aquila._ Tribunus Laticlavius of the Garlean Empire's IInd Legion. But you don't care about that, and you never have. You've always been held in high regards, and now that your wings have been _clipped,_ you've resorted to hiding them beneath those gloves and coat of yours, because you fear that if the people where to find out you can no longer _fly,_ they would _doubt_ you. And if you know you are _doubted,_ you become troubled and uneased, _tormented_ by your own mind."

Grimacing to his words, teeth had clenched despite her lips remaining sealed. Fair was fair, she supposed. A string pulled from him, and string pulled from her. "...But you're hiding something, and I cannot place my finger on it. I can only assume this means it is something very unlike you, isn't it?"

"And just when did you care so much as to interrogate me in the middle of a ta — "

" _You, miss!_ Two cups of chamomile tea, generously sweetened with a hint of lemon. We'll take a couple rolls of bread and butter with it."

Rather than speaking up once more, Viola had simply stared at the other from across the table, blinking lightly before canting her head in an unamused manner. Upon noticing this, Nero would only scoff lightly. Yes, he had absolutely just placed an order — and payed for it, too! "What? I don't expect to break into one of Garlemald's toughest mind in only a few minutes. Might as well get an afternoon snack, assuming you haven't eaten a thing all day. Oh, but how would I know, hm...?" The man inquired, this time being his turn to hold the smug grin. Lowering her gaze, the woman had remained silent, even as the food and drink had been quickly delivered. "Come on now, the sooner you answer me, the sooner I fully consider making those hands of yours. Keep in mind, Little Raven, that the idea I have in mind requires tagging along with Garlond. Meaning I'll either have fun pestering him, or I'll be in utter hell the entire time, with little to no in-between."

"I want to hold my son without worrying of hurting him. And I want to perform my music as good as I used to, if not better."

"...I'm sorry, did I just hear you say — "

" _My son,_ yes. You heard me perfectly."

Running silent himself, the pureblood man had seemed to moreso stare at the other quietly for a moment. "...You have a son." A rather somber little smile was given in return to the repeated inquiry. "Yes, I do. To a Doman. But his father was killed, and my brother looks after him during my time away, even now — I had hid him away in Yanxia for the most of his life, where he was raised. He has yet to speak any other languages."

Nero had seemed more quiet than ever at this; lowering his gaze down to the tea, brows had furrowed at his own faint reflection. "But your father never found you a suitor. You — _what of marriage?_ "

"By consummation. But with no physical proof, they would address my son as a bastard child," she answered, giving a soft sigh. "It... Matters little how he came to be rather than that he is alive now," the ravenette woman continued, earning herself a soft huff. "But your faith in your country is fading. Isn't it?" Nero inquired, resting his head upon one hand, the other taking his cup of tea to drink. He'd known that look all too well. "...You don't have to answer that," he sighed, leaning back in his seat as he'd gesture to her still untouched little meal. "I'll make you your hands, under the condition you help me obtain the necessary materials. Garlond plans to take a trip into Syrcus Tower with the Warrior of Light rather soon; there we will likely find the suitable materials I have in mind. For now, get in the back, and sleep a bit. We've another sun before Garlond takes his friends on their little field trip."

Giving a soft little sigh, Viola had rather reluctantly began to eat her meal so generously provided. "Very well..." The woman had answered in a still rather somber tone, so reluctantly beginning to pluck pieces of the bread with her fingers, tearing and buttering before eating slowly, taking sips of the tea in-between. Truly, she had not appeared in very well condition; had it not been for his own little tactics, he would have not been able to get so much out of the woman, knowing she was not one to speak openly if it was not to her elder brother. "...What's his name? _Your son._ "

"Takara."

"Only the Domans will call him that. Do you not have a Garlean name for him?"

"No... I told you, he doesn't even speak our language."

" _Foolishness._ You should have brought him with you, and he would learn more," Nero huffed, crossing arms over his chest. "He's only seven, Nero, he can hardly defend himself properly. He doesn't even have proper control over his own aether, he's probably set at least _one_ curtain on fire by now."

"And that's not a very optimistic attitude of you. Come on now, _date's over, sweetheart._ I've got to make some notes, and you need to rest."


	4. Towering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say ARR Alliance Raid spoilers, but that's only because I spent like three hours stripping dialogue straight from cutscenes... Thanks, Youtube. •̀.̫•́✧

" _Wake up sleepy bird, you're going to miss the worm!_ "

Jolting up with an audible gasp of surprise, the ravenette woman had appeared to take a moment to catch her breath. " _Nero!_ Don't you know better than to walk in on a lady?!" Viola hissed, teeth grit as she'd quickly and rather recklessly toss the pillow from the bed towards the smirking pureblood — who had, in turn, parried it with but a single forearm. "Doing what, sleeping in? Get ready princess, we're leaving in a bell. That's not plural, by the way."

"You could have woken me up earlier many more polite ways!"

"You're a grown woman, I'm not your babysitter. You should be grateful I'm waking you at all, lest you forget my agreement to make you a new pair of hands. Miss it, and the deal's off."

Giving a clear little growl of frustration, the ravenette woman had resorted to forcing herself off the bed in a begrudging manner, briefly reaching for her bag before yelping a little at the flurry of dog kisses sent her way. "Oi, Caesar! Get down!"

"Hells, first a child, and now a _dog?_ If I didn't know better, I'd think you _liked_ having your hands full with others." Nero scoffed. Though the dog had sent an inquiring little tilt of the head and a soft bark to the man, he'd responded with naught but a roll of the eyes, crossing arms over his chest and looking away. Regardless, Viola had retrieved the clean fabricated armor from the bad — briefly dusting off a bit of stray bullpup fur — before moving behind the nearby partition to change in the most privacy she could get. With Nero standing there, it wasn't all too much, and he'd clearly held no intent of leaving without her.

"Why are you going with Garlond to this place to begin with? _What's in it for you?_ " The woman inquired, albeit accompanied by the sound of her rustling clothes. Briefly, she'd taken a moment to observe the state of her own body in all its faintly scarred glory, before soon redressing herself.

"Because there is useful power there."

"So you're just after power now that Gaius openly favors Cid?"

"Do not speak as if you know of my goals, _woman._ "

Rolling her own eyes softly, she'd eventually walk out, fully dressed in armor. Hands resting on either her hips, the ravenette woman huffed softly at his attitude. "You defected because your Legatus didn't want to acknowledge you more than your childhood rival."

"I defected because I will be greater than all of them. And I will not be subjected to second thoughts because a _little bird_ told me so," Nero hissed, causing the woman to grimace lightly. "...Right. _Whatever_ — come on, we don't want to be late." As she'd begin to walk to the door, she'd been oblivious as to the opposing pureblood's rather harsh gaze lingering upon her; without a word, he'd eventually follow in suit, before beginning to guide her altogether.

Several long and discomforting moments of silence had passed as the two had walked out of the room, and eventually out of the tavern, before soon heading out altogether. Starting up their own separate mounts, it was eventually Viola who had spoken up first. "What do you plan to use? For my hands, I mean. You've only mentioned having an idea, not what it is," the woman inquired, proceeding to follow the other, albeit briefly glancing around at all the crystal — and all the crystalized plant life. By some miracle, the portions of land where the crystal had not covered too thickly had been still bearing some few plants and lifeforms of the like, though none all too prominent. The air had been surprisingly clear for the normal day, without any problems breathing in the area, the sky as bright and blue as the crystalized landforms around them.

"Allagan technology is not to be underestimated. Many of the materials we will likely come across, if properly preserved, will serve excellently in structuring a base for your hands that can properly and smoothly wire in tune with your nerves at the most seamless rate of movement possible. And without your little twitches, too," Nero answered, resulting in a small nod from the woman nearby. She'd understood the general and vague process of which he spoke of, but naught else. Little to no knowledge of technical things resided within her mind when it had come to technology and engineering.

Though the two had eventually come to a halt upon arriving at two massively large stone doors, it was not until Nero had opened them without hesitation that he had gestured for the woman to follow on foot — of which she did, down the nearly seemingly endless and tall hall of crystal and stone, only for them to finally come to an opening. Despite already being present Cid, Biggs and Wedge, and their beloved Warrior of Light — and two individuals she did not recognize one bit — she had not particularly bothered to listen too much into their conversation. Although staying beside Nero, it was to his speaking up that she had truly listened in, not straying too far from his side.

" _Piercing the heavens and gathering the light,_

_a symbol of mankind's glory and might._

_Its virtue guarded by gates impregnable,_

_only to those of royal blood answerable._ "

The little pause he'd given had indicated that he was not particularly finished, though his halt had brought about her own — she'd done her best to seem inconspicuous, though it was likely their gazes would be more averted to Nero regardless. "...Exactly as passed down through legend, I am delighted to see. Beg your pardon for interrupting your bewilderment. I couldn't help but notice the remarkable _playthings_ you have acquired."

"N-Nero!? You're still alive!?" Cid exclaimed, rendering the woman in a state of unavoidable curiosity. Just what had she missed, being so many moons away from Garlemald? From Imperials? Regardless, Nero had wasted no time speaking up. "Garlond, Garlond. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you weren't happy to see me. Ah, but I jest. In light of our recent meetings, you have every right to be wary. But rest assured I am no longer a threat to you. My legion is for all intents and purposes defunct, and my association with it means a noose awaits me back in Garlemald. And so I've been roaming this land Eorzea, a regular itinerant. In the course of my wanderings, I chanced to catch wind of your latest venture. It sounded positively fascinating, and so I decided to come here and join you."

"After the wrongs you've committed? You think us that gullible?" Cid growled, noticeably gritting teeth. "And what of Viola? Why is she here with you?" He inquired further, causing a click of the tongue and a sharp hiss to escape the ravenette woman. "Oh don't act like that Garlond, you knew I was coming, and you knew Nero was here. You can drop the act," Viola grumbled, earning herself a mocking little pat on the head from Nero. "Now now, you two play nice. If you are suspicious of my intent, 'tis only my just deserts. But I am determined to make amends. As a gesture of _goodwill,_ I will share with you what I know... Starting with _these_ two odd characters."

_Goodwill, eh?_ She'd highly doubt that. At the redirecting of the conversation to the two unrecognizable figured ahead, however, her brow had raised in curiosity, arms crossed over her chest as she'd let the man at her side speak.

"As you are doubtless already aware, the Crystal Tower was the symbol of ancient Allag's might and prosperity. Entry was permitted only to royalty and a select few individuals. According to the records I have unearthed, only royal blood can open the gate. In other words, the emperor and his progeny were living keys."

"You mean to say that these two are descended from Allag's royalty!?" Ah, there was another voice she did not recognize. A smaller statured Miqo'te had popped his head from around Garlond and the Warrior of Light, now rendering him far more appropriately visible to Viola. Despite this, Nero's smugness in speaking up once more had left her speechless yet again.

"Oh, I suggest nothing so glamorous. To put it plain, they are imitations of royalty — living keys born of Allagan ingenuity. *Clones*, I believe, is the name your creators gave your kind. Is that not so?" He'd chime, smirking as few more words had been exchanged, observing the band of three heading out before beginning to follow in suit — only to be stopped by Cid yet again, Warrior of Light by side.

" _Seven hells,_ do you seriously mean to follow us around?"

"Come, Garlond. You know me better than to think I spoke in jest. What more will it take for us to be reconciled? A gift, perhaps?" He'd snicker, reaching to his side before handing over what had appeared a little old slab at first sight. "An Allagan tomestone. It holds the information I just shared with you, and a deal more besides. It used to be the jealously guarded property of the XIVth Legion, but it's yours now. I wish you joy of it. I look forward to working together, old friend"

Raising a brow at Nero's choice of wording, the ravenette woman had more or less remained quiet. Truly, this man had held some sort of unfathomable charisma that had kept him from being shot on sight from anyone save most Imperials... Who likely detested him by now. He did admit to being wanted, however it being a confirmation she had little desire to see worked upon. She would not be so foolish as to hang the very man who seemed to be understanding her more than other — despite not always wishing it so.

————

Upon regrouping at the eight sentinels of stone, Viola had more or less remained within the background aside Nero. By the end of the day, now upon nearing midnight, it would seem the Warrior of Light had succeeded in defeating this emperor so spoken of prior that day. Regardless, the means of which Nero had equipped his armor had caused her to raise a brow in an inquiring manner. "...What is your goal here? In all of this. Like hells you're doing it out of goodwill."

"Oh come now, don't start doubting me too, or the quality of those hands might just go down a bit," Nero smirked, causing the ravenette woman to huff lightly. "That — that isn't what I mean. I don't doubt you. But surely there must be _something_ keeping you from coming home besides a _noose,_ as you so kindly put it."

"Would you blame me? I'm not particularly ready to meet my end even soon."

"You say that, yet your notes speak otherwise. Don't lie to me, Nero."

"Nosy little bird, aren't you? I told you to leave the work to me, and you'll get your hands _in all due time._ "

Gritting teeth at the ever persistent remarks and comebacks regardless of what she had spoken and how, Viola had silenced herself once more. What use was there in fighting this? Silence had filled the air as the two had walked, though whether or not Nero had been oblivious to her occasional little glances, or if he had simply not cared enough, she would allow to speak for itself. Despite the length — or should she say height — of the little trip, she had held no complains, the only sound leaving either their forms being the sound of their footsteps. Nonetheless, Viola had been properly equipped herself, gunblade upon back, decently armored despite not quite wearing a literal suit of it. Her mask, as ever present as always.

As they neared the top, and approached the others quietly, another little glance was given up, though he would not see the worry in her gaze, even if he had indeed bothered to glance back; idly had she watched him remove that ever familiar little device of his, listening in to its noises quietly.

"What are you playing with now, Nero?" Cid grumbled from the distance, causing Nero to give a rather unamused yet oddly unreadable gaze.

"In case you haven't noticed, Garlond, these are dangerous surrounds. Can a man be faulted for exercising due caution? At any rate, you needn't mind me. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. Go on and finish what you came to do," Nero answered, rendering Cid simply able to glare as the blonde had wandered off to some other corner. Regardless, Viola had eventually follow in suit, lowering her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think this is a good idea, Nero."

"We both have made plenty of decisions that were not *good ideas*, Little Raven. I will have what I want here, and that's that."

"You haven't bothered even _glancing_ to the materials here the whole time we've been here — "

"Ask me _one_ more time, and the deal is off. You certainly know how to bicker your beak more than you should."

At that, the ravenette woman had opened her mouth to speak again, before eventually closing it quietly, looking out upon the distance. _Ah, words._ Ever her enemy. Ever rendering her but a bother to others, her persistency to get things done leaving others annoyed at her continuous inquiries. It was nothing new to her, but her silence did not change her worries for the opposing pureblood's plans. Abruptly, Nero had began glancing around back and forth from his little device, the woman blinking lightly in inquiry at his sudden movement, though he did not answer just yet — rather, it was his unwarned of laughter filling the air, and no sooner gaining the attention of those around them.

"Nero..."

"Oh, be still, my beating heart... For a moment I feared that this outing would end in disappointment, but my readings were not mistaken! Not even the Ultima Weapon compares to this!"

This time, however, it was Cid's turn to interrupt yet again. "What are you going on about!?"

" _The covenant... Is everlasting..._ "

With an abrupt interruption yet again from the unknown voice speaking from the tear of a rift, it had only grown larger, causing the attention to therefore turn upon it. Within a moment, only more clones discolored of the twins had began to appear, the ravenette woman swift to draw her gunblade. No sooner had the Warrior of light so ungraciously fallen upon a knee, with splendid timing as ever, each to their own drawing their weapons.

Swift movements had come one after the other; an arrow here, a few slashes there, and the unceremonious sound of Nero firing a bullet to one of the undead clone's head. As the fight had continued, a glance back was given on the occasion, hair falling out of its low and slightly messy bun upon her head to the all too fervent movements snapping the band tying ravenette locks together. Having yet to cease, however, the woman would indulge in her ego by saving the blonde from a strike, only to be saved herself by another gunshot — _so much for impressing._ Yet, there had seemed no end to them, Cid eventually speaking up within the midst.

" _Nero!_ Were they part of your grand plan, too?"

"Save your japes, _Garlond!_ I didn't put up with your arrogant face to play with worthless clones! Something controls them. A voidsent, and no ordinary one at that."

Amidst it all, however, Unei had swiftly called out to her brother — rendering all heads to turn, met with the sight of the enlarged tear attempting to snatch the artificial man from their very plane, only to begin pulling at Unei in suit.

"Confound it! Without then, there's no way to master the darkness! That power... _Is mine!_ "

"Nero, don't — "

Unanouncedly rushing towards the artificial woman, it had happened too swiftly to stop, slashing at a clone and launching his gunblade entirely at another, only to launch himself to reach for Unei's wrist, only to be pulled in himself.

" _Nero!_ "

A rather loud cry of a yell had escaped Viola's lips, uncertain if he would even hear her amidst the pulling darkness, though the desperation clear in her voice; nerves had torn apart in her mind, though the tear had appeared to refuse her access despite rushing towards it, her own gunblade dropping to the ground, simply... _Staring._ Silently, up into the rift of which naught but sheer darkness could be seen, feeling her own mouth run dry as she'd attempt to process such. The quietness, the lack of a witty remark or comeback... _Surely_ this was all some elaborate trick, _right?_ But Nero...

_Nero was gone._


End file.
